


Ad Astra Per Aspera

by hypercharles



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Hurt Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr., Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, lots of comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:53:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22431403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypercharles/pseuds/hypercharles
Summary: Sonny kisses Rafael, and everything changes.
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 143





	Ad Astra Per Aspera

**Author's Note:**

> This is kinda just a 5000+ word vomit exploring the development of Sonny and Rafael's relationship. Hope you guys enjoy? I've been working on this for a long-ass time, and it's finally at a point where i feel confident posting it. hopefully it's not just a shitshow.

It happens in broad daylight, in the middle of a restaurant. They were happy, drinking, celebrating a win on a tough case.

And then their relationship is altered forever.

Sonny kisses him, completely out of the blue, and Rafael’s speech sputters to a halt. He’s frozen in place, hands still resting on the table he’s seated at.

Sonny backs off as soon as he realizes Rafael isn’t responding.

“Oh—My God, Counsellor. I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—” And he’s gone before Rafael can hardly blink.

He sits there, still in shock. He stares at the coat that Sonny left behind in his rush.

His lips tingle.

* * *

He impulsively decides to bring Sonny his coat that evening. He shows up at the detective’s door, coat in hand. He hesitates a solid three minutes before he gets the nerve to actually knock.

Sonny answers the door, shirt half unbuttoned.

“Barba? What—” His voice fades out when his eyes fall on the coat. Sonny’s shoulders slump.

“I thought I would bring your coat, Detective. It’s going to be cold tomorrow.” Barba studies Sonny’s face. He looks like he’s been crying, eyes red and slightly puffy.

“Are you… alright, Carisi?”

“Am I—” Sonny cuts himself off. “I— do you want to come in, for a minute?”

Barba nods and steps inside. He follows Sonny to his living room and perches on the edge of a couch cushion.

Sonny sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“I need— I need to apologize for what I—what I did earlier,” Sonny says.

“There’s no need to apolo—“

Sonny interrupts him. “Yeah, there is, man. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have— I shouldn’t have just done that. I should have asked.”

Barba nods. “I might have appreciated a warning, I can’t deny that.”

“I didn’t mean to force myself on you like that, Counsellor. I was wrong, and you have every right to press assault charges.”

Barba looks at Sonny sharply. “Press charges? Sonny, you kissed me.”

Sonny winces. “I know, and I’m sorry. I can—I can resign if you don’t want this made public—“ he looks desperate at this point.

Barba doesn’t know how to fix this. Sonny’s got himself all worked up for nothing. “Detective, I'm not going to press charges and I certainly don’t want you to resign. You are good at what you do and SVU needs you.”

Sonny nods, and he looks like he’s going to start crying again. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make everything so— I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Barba stands up and gives Sonny an appraising look. “I never said it couldn’t happen again, Detective. I only said I’d like a fair warning next time.”

Sonny’s head jerks up and he looks at Barba with wide eyes.

“I will say, Sonny,” Barba says quietly, “that if we do this, we need to clear about what _this_ is. I don’t do casual fucks. I don’t do open relationships. I do commitment.”

Sonny nods hurriedly, and his face is brightening fast with hope. “I want whatever you want, Counsellor. However you’ll let me have you, that’s what I want.”

Barba smiles. “Alright, Sonny. Just one more thing.”

Sonny looks at him expectantly, face closing off slightly. _Is he expecting me to take it back? To say that this is all a joke?_ Barba wonders.

“We keep this a secret. If our relationship is exposed, every case we ever work together will be in jeopardy.”

“I can do that, Rafael. I’m good with secrets.”

Barba pretends that hearing Sonny say his given name doesn’t fill him with warmth.

* * *

It’s awkward, at first. Neither man really knows much about the other’s experiences with relationships. Sonny quickly discovers that while Rafael is definitely more familiar with how a relationship should work, Sonny has had more practice in the bedroom. They even each other out nicely.

It takes the squad about thirty seconds to figure out what’s going on between the two of them. Well, it takes Liv thirty seconds. Amanda catches on around the third day. Fin doesn’t notice until Sonny and Rafael take a quick “lunch break” on their one-month anniversary and show up again with their ties swapped.

Nick doesn’t figure it out until two months after the tie incident, when he walks into the breakroom and sees Sonny hastily take his hand off the counselor’s ass.

It’s nice, having such an open secret.

They spent most nights together. Sonny is a bit clingy, but Rafael doesn’t mind too much.

* * *

The next case is a bad one. Sonny comes home the first night pale and shaking. Rafael holds him close that whole night, wishing he knew what exactly had Sonny so scared.

He doesn’t get to find out until they have a suspect, and Barba comes down to the station to see what they're working with.

The suspect a complete asshole, but he’s charming. All smiles and jokes as he talks to Nick. Barba stops to watch the interrogation, figuring he can find Sonny when it’s over.

And then Sonny walks into the interrogation room, and Barba’s mouth falls open.

Sonny is wearing the tightest pair of suit pants he owns, and the first three buttons of his shirt are undone. Barba swears he’s even wearing eyeliner. “What—“

Liv walks up to Barba as he gapes at his boyfriend through the glass. “Just watch, Barba. Nick and Amanda have been going at the guy for nearly eight hours. They only thing they’ve managed is to get him to waive his right to a lawyer. Sonny asked to try something, and well, there he goes.”

“Hey, man, can’t you see we’re in the middle of something?” Nick asks Sonny. Carisi stops short and makes like he’s going to leave.

“Nah, let him stay. Never seen a faggot cop before.” The suspect smirks and sits back in his chair, spreading his legs slightly.

Sonny flinches, and Barba’s not sure if that was part of the act or a genuine reaction.

“I—Uh—They’ve got the – the tests back,” Sonny stutters. 

“And what did they tell you, pretty boy? That I had sex with those fags?” The man is getting excited; Barba can see a tent in the man’s jeans from the other side of the window.

“Jesus,” he breathes. Liv just shakes her head.

“Y-yeah,” Carisi says.

Nick sighs. “Is that all you have to tell us, Carisi?”

Carisi nods his head and the suspect laughs again. “Yeah, I had sex with them. They were begging for it.”

“They—they all reported it as rape, Mr. Kleinsasser,” Carisi ducks his head and perches on a chair next to Nick.

“Nah, those bitches wanted it rough. Told me all about what they wanted me to do to them. You’d like it, too, babe.”

“Like it—like it how?” Carisi looks up at the man with big eyes.

Liv nods her head. “He’s gonna get it. Damn.”

In the interview, the man has leaned over the table so he’s right in Carisi’s face.

“You’d like it exactly how I did them. You’ve seen the pictures.”

“Yeah—but—I want—“ Carisi starts.

The man laughs. “You wanna know all the little details, huh? You a watcher? You seem like the type of little bitch that likes to watch.”

Sonny’s face goes beet red, but he nods and _holy shit_ flutters his eyelashes at Kleinsasser.

“First, I get them nice and loose. Get them drunk, real drunk, and then I bring them home. Then I – you know – get myself excited, sometimes with my hand, sometimes with their mouths. I don’t use their mouths if they’re awake, you see. Too much risk of teeth.” The man flashes the most predatory grin Barba has ever seen, and Sonny jerks back.

The man cackles. “They usually wake up when I start ramming my dick up their asses. I don’t prep them all that well. Blood is the best lube anyway.”

“Don’t they—don’t they scream, though?” Sonny asks softly.

“Baby, the more they say no, the hotter it is for me. Nothing gets me going better than a faggot crying as I fuck the life out of them.”

“We got him,” Barba breathes. “Holy shit. He did it.”

The man is still leering at Sonny. “I’d like to see you on your knees, babe. Bet you’d look gorgeous on the other end of my cock. Lips like that—“

Nick cuts him off. “Hey, shut up, man. You just confessed to three rapes.”

The man jerks up as if he’d forgotten Nick was in the room.

“Oh, you fucking _bitch_!” He turns and tries to lunge at Sonny. Sonny stumbles back and Nick intercepts the punch before it can make contact. He makes quick work of grabbing the man’s arm, and he wrenches it behind the perp’s back, cuffing him.

“Don’t even think of trying to lay a hand on him, you piece of trash,” Nick growls in his ear. Amaro nods his head at Sonny, and Sonny nearly runs out of the room.

Liv catches him on his way to the men’s room.

“Carisi, how’d you know that would work? I wasn’t even sure we had the right guy, or that he even liked men.”

“He—uh—he was a textbook abuser, Liv. I could tell a mile away that he was a rapist. Figured I’d play like one of his vics, get him to gloat about what he did to the others,” Sonny shuffles his feet. “I’d—I’d like to go get changed, now.”

Liv nods. Once Sonny is out of earshot, she turns to Barba. “Just for the record, counselor, nothing that man did was textbook. I have no idea how Carisi saw that. He deserves some sort of reward, I think.” She winks, and Barba is left waiting for Carisi to come back out of the bathroom. 

* * *

That night, Sonny takes a long, boiling hot shower. Barba waits up, hoping to get to talk to him before they go to sleep.

When Sonny does finally get out of the shower, his eyes are as red as his skin. He climbs into the bed silently, not meeting his lover’s eye.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on?” Rafael asks.

Sonny just shakes his head. “I hate playing the victim like that. Being bait is one thing. But that—that makes me feel violated.”

“I think that man makes every person he looks at feel violated, mi amor.” Barba kisses Sonny’s shoulder.

“I just—I don’t—I hate having to do that, having to act weak like that. I’m not weak. I’m not!” Sonny’s voice is rising in pitch and tempo.

“I know, baby, I know,” Rafael justs shushes him, rubbing his back.

They fall asleep, tears still fresh on Sonny’s face.

* * *

Barba starts to notice the little things after that. There’s not a lot of big clues, but every so often, Barba gets a glimpse through the curtain at Sonny’s past.

* * *

It’s in the way that Sonny absolutely hates when Rafael calls him honey. The first time Barba uses the endearment, Sonny turns a sickly shade of green and tells Barba that it’s off-limits.

Barba doesn’t mean to use it again, but it slips during sex once.

That is the only time that Sonny has ever said no in bed.

* * *

Or it was, until Rafael puts his hands in Sonny’s hair while Sonny is sucking him off. Sonny is off of him and on the other side of the room before Rafael even registers what happened.

“Sonny?” He ventures softly.

“I’m—I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—Just give me a minute and I can—“ the younger man is breathing harshly, one hand on his chest as he heaves.

“You think I’d—Baby, what happened?” Barba wants to cry from the expression on Sonny’s face.

“I—I – I can’t have your hands in my hair, Rafa. Not—not during—not like that.” Sonny’s voice is rough, and he’s still crying.

“Okay, okay, baby. That’s okay. We don’t need—we don’t need to do it that way. We’ll do it however you want it, okay?” Barba meets Sonny’s eye, but the detective looks away.

“I shouldn’t—I shouldn’t leave you hanging like that, Counsellor. It’s not fair to you.”

Rafael shuts his eyes for a moment. “Baby, it’s not fair to you to try to continue something that makes you so uncomfortable.”

Carisi just shrugs, and Barba is forced to either start a fight or let it go.

So he files it away, and looks for more hints.

* * *

It’s in the way that Sonny absolutely hates Barba’s fanciest cologne. Rafael doesn’t wear it all that often, only when he really needs to feel nice about himself.

He wears it to a particularly tough date in court. Sonny is supposed to pick him up afterward, so they can go to dinner.

Sonny fidgets wildly as he drives them to the restaurant. He rolls his window down, and then Rafael’s, even though it’s pretty cold outside.

He refuses to hug Rafael when they are finally there; in fact, he keeps a three-foot minimum distance from his boyfriend that whole night. He sits across from Rafael, which isn’t unusual, but he also keeps his hands off the table and leans away from the other man the entire time. If Rafael wasn’t so concerned, he’d feel pretty insulted.

When they get back to the apartment, Sonny beelines for the couch, turning on some stupid show that he knows Rafael hates.

Rafael refuses to take the hint and sits down on the cushion next to Sonny. “Mi amor, I believe I will have to shower in the morning. I am so tired from today. Let’s go to bed, baby.”

Sonny’s face drops, and he aims his eyes somewhere over Barba’s left shoulder. “I think—I think I’m going to go back to my apartment, Rafa. I need—“

“What is going on, Sonny? You’ve been keeping me at arm’s length all night long,” Barba is frustrated now. Sonny hasn’t gone to his apartment to sleep for months. Why would he choose now to be the time to go back?

“I—I’m sorry,” Sonny finally says.

“Baby, I’m not mad. I just want to know why.” Barba strokes the side of Sonny’s face, and the man flinches away from his touch.

“Can you just—can you just wash off that cologne?” Sonny finally blurts out.

“My cologne? You don’t like it?”

Sonny shakes his head vigorously. “I’m sorry, counselor. I – um,” He flushes pink. “An ex of mine used to—used to wear that same one, and I—I don’t like thinking about him.”

Barba studies Sonny’s face for a moment before nodding. “Okay, sweetheart. I’ll go shower. You go get in bed, okay?”

Sonny gives him a small smile and walks towards the bedroom.

Barba vows to throw away the bottle of the cologne.

* * *

It’s the tiny white scars all across Sonny’s ribs. They’re flat, thin, and hardly visible except under the perfect angle of light.

Barba never asks about them.

He’s seen enough evidence files to know that the marks were made by a belt.

He also knows that Sonny’s parents never laid a hand on him. Sonny loves them too much, trusts them too much, for that to be the case.

It hurts Barba’s heart to know that someone has hurt Sonny like that. Sure, they could be from the job; Sonny was certainly bounced around enough to have landed himself in that kind of trouble.

But something deep down tells him that those marks weren’t all caused at once.

They built up over time.

* * *

Nick, god bless him, is usually completely oblivious to most things that aren’t about the job.

However, he can spot a victim a mile away, and Sonny is no exception.

“Be careful with him,” He warns Barba one afternoon.

Barba tries to ask what he means, but Nick just shakes his head.

“If you don’t know, it’s not my place, Counsellor. Just be careful.”

A few weeks go by before the next warning comes. Barba is heated about something, he can’t even remember what. But he stalks into the station with fire in his eyes, looking for Sonny.

Nick intercepts him. “You don’t want to talk to him like this,” he says softly.

“What?” Barba snaps. Nick pulls him into the breakroom.

“Don’t yell at him, entiendes? He won’t react well.”

“I don’t need him to react, I need him to listen. That was a dumb move and he’s lucky I don’t—“

“Don’t what? Rafael, we both know you aren’t that kind of guy, and we both know he’d have every right to leave you if you were.” Nick’s gaze is steady.

Barba deflates. “He—I – He needs to be more careful. He could have cost us the case.”

“And if you go in there angry and yelling, he’s just gonna shut down. He’ll stand there and take it, but the words’ll be in one ear and out the other, and you know it. He’s not like—You can’t yell at Sonny.”

Barba crosses his arms. “I—“

And then Sonny walks into the breakroom. It only takes him a second to see Barba, and when he does, it’s like someone’s cut his strings. He slumps over, looks to the ground. Nick gives Barba one last cautionary look and then leaves the two lovers alone.

“Sonny—“

“I’m sorry, Rafa!”

They both speak at the same time, but Sonny isn’t even looking at Barba.

“Sonny, look at me,” Rafael says.

Sonny winces but flicks his gaze upwards until he meets the counselor’s eyes.

“I’m not—I’m not going to yell at you, Sonny.”

“You—I fucked up, Rafa. I fucked up your case; you have a right to be mad at me.” Sonny seems much more tired than he should be.

“I have the right to be mad, yes,” Barba agrees, “but I don’t have the right to yell at you. We can talk more at home. Get your stuff.”

Sonny winces again, but grudgingly obeys. It’s not until they are out of the station that Sonny dares reach for Barba’s hand. He does it slowly, as if he’s expecting to be ignored, or worse, slapped away.

But Rafael takes his boyfriend’s hand and tries to ignore the feeling that something is _wrong_ with how Sonny is acting right now.

When they get home, Sonny makes a beeline for the couch, wedging himself into the corner. He doesn’t even stop to take his shoes or jacket off, choosing to curl up instead. Rafael sighs but doesn’t say anything about it.

He takes his time getting his shoes off and changing into something more comfortable. Sonny looks more and more tense with every second that passes.

“Sonny,” Barba finally says. Carisi startles but jerks his head up.

“I’m—I’m sorry about your case.”

“I’m not mad about the case, baby,” Rafael says. He can see confusion work its way over Carisi’s face.

“You—Then—Why—“ Carisi can’t seem to string his words together.

“I’m upset that you put yourself in harm’s way, not that you did an undercover op without authorization,” Barba says.

Carisi frowns. “But… it fucked up your case. Fruit of the poison tree, and all that.”

“Sonny, I won’t lie. As the prosecutor, I’m pissed.” Sonny flinches. “But as your boyfriend, I’m concerned. Upset, frustrated even, but not mad. Not at you.”

“You—you’re not?” Sonny’s voice is small, and it makes Rafael’s heart hurt.

“No, mi amor, I’m not,” he says, finally sitting next to Sonny on the couch.

Sonny untangles his limbs enough to allow Barba to enter his personal bubble. “I—I’m sorry, then, for upsetting you. I—I didn’t think—“

“It’s alright, Sonny.”

That is the first night that Sonny falls asleep first.

* * *

It’s in the way that Sonny never answers the door if Barba is home. At first, Barba thought it was just because it wasn’t technically his apartment, or maybe he thought Sonny answering Barba’s door would be too telling of their relationship.

But soon enough Sonny no longer has his own apartment, and their relationship is the most open secret the team has. And Sonny still never answers the door.

* * *

It’s in the way that Sonny never eats before Barba. The two men have busy schedules, but they are usually lucky enough to have the dinner hour off together. If they don’t go to a restaurant, Sonny does the cooking. And if Barba is late, Sonny waits.

Not once does Sonny eat dinner without Barba. Even on nights when the two men aren’t in the same space until the early morning hours, Sonny waits.

Barba doesn’t ask. Maybe Sonny just craves a shared mealtime. Growing up in an Italian home certainly makes you used to eating together.

But something tells Barba that it’s not about sharing the food.

It’s about letting Barba eat first.

* * *

Barba has learned to stop drinking in front of Sonny. A beer here and there is fine, but anything more sets Sonny on edge worse than anything else.

The first time Barba is truly drunk in front of Sonny, Sonny won’t come anywhere near him. He flinches away from Barba’s every touch, refusing to go to bed until Barba has sobered up.

Barba starts keeping track of Sonny’s reactions to alcohol, but the man seems fine when the squad goes out drinking.

It’s only when he and Barba are alone that Sonny has issues.

It happens after a particularly hard loss in court. Barba goes home and drinks.

And drinks.

And drinks.

Trying not to think about the little boy who’s never going to be okay again; who’s never going to trust again; who’s never going to—

He’s not quite drunk when Sonny gets home, but it doesn’t matter.

Sonny freezes as soon as he sees the half-empty bottle of scotch on the table. He stops at the edge of the room, arms crossed over his stomach, hands fisting into the material around his ribs.

“Counsellor?” He asks, breaking the silence.

Barba raises his glass slightly. “Hey, baby.”

Sonny flinches, but walks forward, sitting gingerly next to Rafael. “Is—are you—alright?” His voice is barely above a whisper, and his eyes never stray from watching Barba’s hands.

“Oh, I’m just wonderful,” Barba cracks, and Sonny clenches his jaw. Barba goes to fill his glass again, and he sees Sonny move out of the corner of his eye.

Sonny makes an aborted motion to take the glass, before snatching his hand back. “Don’t—don’t you think, maybe, you’ve had enough?” He tenses as soon as the words are out of his mouth, and he looks pale.

Barba stops, and stares at Sonny for a minute. Sonny won’t meet his eye, still focused on Barba’s hands.

Barba laughs, and it’s not a happy sound. Sonny jumps and looks like he’s about to make a run for it.

“There’s not enough alcohol in the world for this,” Rafael says bitterly.

“I—I’m sorry,” Sonny says, voice hoarse. “I—the case—I’m sorry.”

Rafael lurches to his feet. Sonny shoots up, nearly tripping in his haste to stand.

Barba clutches his glass, looks at it. He’s angry, so angry—

He hurls the glass across the room. It breaks as soon as it hits the floor.

It takes Barba a minute to process what happens next.

Sonny lets out a whimper and scrambles back as far away from Barba as the room allows. His arms come up over his head, and he hunches so that his back is shoved into the corner. His eyes are shut tight.

“Sonny—“ Barba starts, but he cuts himself off when Sonny chokes off a cry. “Hey, baby, it’s—I’m not mad at you, Sonny.”

Sonny opens his eyes but doesn’t move. “I—You—you startled—me—I –“ he trails off, his face flushed.

“I didn’t—I’m not mad at you, baby, I promise. I—I shouldn’t have thrown the glass.” Barba wishes he’d never taken a sip of that drink. “I wasn’t—I wasn’t thinking, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Sonny says, voice tight. He uncurls himself, lowering his hands. “I—I overreacted.”

He slowly moves towards Barba, hands outstretched in a near-surrender.

He’s acting like a wounded animal or –

_Or like that dog the neighbor boy hit one too many times before Rafael stopped him—_

“Sonny, you know I’d never hi- hurt you, right?” He asks, searching Sonny’s face.

Carisi smiles weakly. “Yeah, I know, Rafa,” he murmurs. He still won’t look the older man in the eye. He moves forward, and at first, Barba doesn’t realize what’s he’s going to do. But then Sonny drops to the ground, reaching for the shards of glass.

“What—Babe, you don’t—“ But Sonny just ignores him, picking up the broken pieces.

Once he’s finished, he washes his hands carefully, making sure there’s no glass dust on his skin.

Barba takes a shower.

When he gets out, the sight in front of him hurts his heart.

Sonny is curled up into a ball on the very edge of the mattress, taking up as little room as possible. It’s obvious that Carisi is still awake, but he doesn’t turn when Barba lays down on his own side. Barba looks at the shaking body for a long minute, before carefully reaching out to Sonny.

He pulls close, draping an arm over Sonny’s side. Sonny tenses, but then his muscles go limp. He finally turns towards Rafael, and it’s all Barba can do to stop from wrapping him in a bear hug.

He compromises, laying on his back so that Sonny can lay beside him without having to be a big or little spoon. Sonny falls asleep listening to Barba’s heartbeat.

“I’m sorry, mi amor,” Rafael says softly. “I’m so sorry.”

* * *

They’re in a bar, celebrating a monumental win. Barba is drinking a soda, much to Sonny’s amusement. The counter is pretty crowded, so they move to find a seat further back in the building.

A man walks into Sonny as he moves past, knocking Sonny to the ground.

“Fuck,” Sonny hisses, but goes silent as soon as he sees the man’s face.

“Babe, you okay?” Barba asks, leaning to help Sonny stand. Sonny doesn’t even blink, as if he’s been frozen.

“Yeah, babe, you alright?” The man sneers.

Barba frowns. “Excuse me, sir, but—“

“What, you’re not going to answer?” The man interrupts, still looking at Sonny.

Sonny bites his lip, and slowly gets to his feet.

“Mark, don’t—“

“Shut up, and say sorry for ramming into me,” Mark demands. His words are slurred, and he’s clearly drunk.

Barba lets out a disbelieving noise, but it’s muffled by Sonny’s apology. Barba crosses his arms.

“Excuse me, but you walked into him,” Barba says firmly.

“Nah,” Mark says, smirking. “Sonny should know to get out of my way.”

Sonny shuffles his feet. “Let’s just go, babe,” he says softly.

“Babe?” Mark says. “You found someone to put up with your shit? I’m impressed.”

By now, Barba is furious. “I don’t know where you get off speaking to him like that, but—“

“Oh, fuck off, ah-mee-go,” Mark says, obviously mispronouncing the word on purpose.

“Mark, don’t—“ Sonny starts.

Mark steps up into Sonny’s space. “What was that, Honey? Did you say something?”

Barba loses it. “Alright, that’s enough. Leave my boyfriend alone, or—“

“Boyfriend, huh?” Mark laughs. “Surprised anyone would want you.”

Sonny looks like he’s about to cry. “I—please—“

Mark throws back the rest of his drink and then cackles. “Still haven’t learned, have you?”

Barba steps between the two men. “Alright, back the fuck off, now.” His voice is harsh.

“What, upset to find out he’s just someone’s sloppy seconds?” Mark jeers.

Sonny winces.

“Mark, let it go. It’s over,” Carisi says, but it’s clear he’s scared.

Barba’s blood boils. No one, _no one,_ should ever make his boyfriend afraid like this.

“It’s over? Yeah right, honey. You know I’m still all up in your head,” Mark laughs, and reaches out like he’s going to grab Sonny’s wrist.

Sonny stumbles backward, but Barba steadies him. “Let’s go,” he says and starts guiding Sonny towards the door.

“You’ll never be rid of me!” Mark calls after them.

* * *

Sonny has a panic attack as soon as they enter the apartment. His gasps for breath, tears running down his face. “Oh god, oh god, oh god,” he rambles.

“Hey, baby, I’ve got you. I’ve got you. You’re okay, baby,” Rafael soothes.

It takes a while, but Sonny finally manages to catch his breath. His hand squeezes Barba’s tight.

“That—he—I—“

“Shhhh, love, it’s alright. Just breathe.”

Sonny starts crying in earnest. “I—I’m sorry. I froze—I—“

“Hey, now, this isn’t your fault. No need to be sorry.”

Sonny nods, and Barba manages to get them both in a comfortable position on the couch. He runs his hands through Sonny’s hair, humming softly.

When Sonny is finally able, he speaks.

“Mark.. he.. He was my first—first and only relationship before you,” Sonny says. “He—He hurt me, Rafa. He hurt me bad.”

Rafael closes his eyes, letting the tears slip out. “I know, baby, I know.”

“He—he hit me, and- and he – he never, _never_ took no for an answer, and I—I thought—I thought I deserved it. He fucked with my head—I couldn’t –“

Barba rocks Sonny slowly. “Oh, baby. I’ve got you.”

Sonny starts crying again. “He—it always hurt and he’d get so drunk, and and so _mad—_ he’d throw things at me and hit me with his—with his belt and the whole time I’d be trying to figure out what I did wrong—

Everything was always my fault—but then—he’d sober up, and take me out on a date, and make me feel so—so important. I craved that—that feeling. Being loved. Even though I had to pay a terrible price. I didn’t—I thought he hung the moon, and I would beg him to forgive me, even after he’d nearly break my arm over something.”

Barba doesn’t say anything, just continues to hum.

“I’m sorry, Rafael.”

“What—why are you sorry?” Barba asks, confused.

“You—you’ve wasted all this time on me, just to find out that I’m—I should have told you that I was damaged goods in the first place.”

“Baby, you are not damaged goods,” Barba insists.

Sonny shakes his head. “I’m—I’m used, broken, dirty. He—he ruined me.”

“Sonny, look at me.” Barba waits until Sonny makes eye contact, and then he holds hit, putting his hand on Sonny’s chin to stop him from looking away.

“You are beautiful. Wonderful, perfect. You are not broken, not damaged. Nothing that man ever did will change how I see you, mi tesoro. I love you, and nothing will ever change that.”

Sonny is crying even harder now. “You—You really mean that.”

“I do,” Barba says, even though it wasn’t a question.

“I love you, too, Rafa,” Sonny says.

* * *

Rafael knows it’s stupid, but he can’t help it. He keeps going back to that bar, and the ones near it, trying to run into Mark again.

He wants nothing more than to lay into Mark. He wants the man to regret ever being born.

It doesn’t go quite as he had hoped.

Mark sees him first and approaches. He’s clutching a drink, and he smells like he’s been drinking all day.

“Thought you’d come to get some advice on how to control him?” he taunts.

“Excuse me?” Barba snaps.

“Well, I got him all trained, but it’s been a couple of years. He might need some refreshers.”

“Trained?” Barba asks, narrowing his eyes. He doesn’t like where this is going.

“You think he’s the way he is naturally?” Mark asks. “I taught him everything.”

Barba scowls. “Like what?” He really doesn’t want to hear Mark talk, but he also is too angry to let Mark dangle information over him like this. He needs to know.

“He won’t ever say no, not really,” Mark starts. He holds up a hand, as if he’s counting off points on his fingers. “He won’t answer the door if you’re home, he won’t eat without you, he always cleans up any messes, no matter who made them, the list goes on. It shouldn’t take you long to teach him your own tricks. He’s a fast learner, at least after a few hits.”

Barba is fuming. He suspected that some of those quirks were learned, but to find out that Mark had literally beaten them into him?

“You are a piece of shit,” he hisses. “Sonny doesn’t deserve—“

Mark cuts him off. “Sonny deserved every bruise I ever gave him.”

Barba shoves Mark, making him spill his drink. Mark sways and then starts laughing.

“You’re disgusting,” Barba spits out.

Mark just keeps laughing. “He’s a great little cock-sucker, ain’t he? I taught him that.” His laughter gets even crueler. “Every time he’d try to stop, I’d hold him down until he choked. I bet he still does that thing I taught him, with his tongue—“

Barba punches Mark in the jaw, sending him sprawling. He climbs on top of the man, hitting him as hard as he can again and again—

And then someone’s pulling him off of Mark, holding him back. Everyone’s shouting, but all Barba can hear is Mark’s laughter.

* * *

Thankfully, the bartender doesn’t call the cops, and Mark doesn’t try to press charges, either. Barba threatens Mark with the full force of the New York legal system if he so much as thinks about Sonny again, and then he leaves.

He goes home, finds Sonny, and wraps him into a hug.

“What’s up, Rafa?” Sonny says.

“I’m so glad you kissed me,” Barba says.

Sonny laughs. “Me too, babe.”


End file.
